"Well, I know that much, anyhow!" said Bessie to herself. "He didn't take her to Zebulon, and he can't have done anything yet. I don't believe he's got any right to keep her that way, not unless the people at the poor-farm give him the right to take her. Zara hasn't done anything--it isn't as if she'd been arrested, and were running away from that." Suddenly Bessie started with alarm. She had drawn back among the trees to hide while she tried to think out the best course of action for her to take, and she heard someone moving quite close to her. But then, as the one who had frightened her came into view, she smiled, for it was only a small boy, very dirty and red of face, his white clothes soiled, but looking thoroughly happy, just the same. "Hello!" he said, staring at her. "Hello, yourself! Where did you come from? And wherever did you get all that dirt on yourself?" "Oh, in the woods," said the small boy. "Say, my name's Jack Roberts, and my pop owns that hotel there. What's your name? Do you like cherries? Can you climb a tree? Did you ever go out in the woods all alone? Can you swim?" "My, my! One question at a time," laughed Bessie. "I love cherries. Have you got some?" "Bet I have!" he said. The single answer to all his questions seemed to satisfy him thoroughly, and he pulled out a great handful of cherries from his straw hat, which he had been using for a basket. "Here you are," he said. "Say, do you know that other girl?" Bessie's heart leaped again. She felt that she had struck real luck at last. "What other girl?" she asked, but even as she asked the question, her heart sank again. He couldn't mean Zara. How could he possibly know anything about her? "She was dressed just like you," he said. "And she had black hair and her skin was dark. So she didn't look like you at all, you see. She was crying, too. Say, aren't those cherries good? Why don't you eat them?" Bessie was so interested and excited when she heard him speak of Zara that she forgot to eat the cherries. But she saw that she had hurt his feelings by her neglect of his present, and she made amends at once. She ate several of them, and smacked her lips. "They're splendid, Jack! They're the best I've eaten this year. I think you're lucky to be able to get them." Jack was delighted. "You come here again later on and I'll give you some of the best pears you ever tasted." "Tell me some more about the girl, Jack--the other girl, with black hair. I think perhaps she's a friend of mine. Why was she crying?" "I don't know but she was. She was going on terrible. And she was with her pop, I guess. So I s'pose she'd just been naughty, and he'd punished her." "What makes you think that, Jack?"